


Ritual

by spoonsoftea



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 20:15:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7771642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spoonsoftea/pseuds/spoonsoftea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhett was already thinking about ways they could wrangle an episode around a fire station. Who would sponsor them to drive a fire truck? The insurance company would probably have conniptions, but the views they would get – maybe "Two Regular Guys Try Firefighting," or "Fire Truck Stunt Driving." </p><p>Or, more likely, "Link Almost Kills Someone with a Fire Truck."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ritual

It was dark when Rhett awoke, unsure what had pulled him from sleep.

A squint at the alarm clock revealed fuzzy blue numbers that showed it to be nearly two in the morning. The usual suspects for interrupted sleep – lost covers, excessive heat, a snuggling wife – were absent. The soft sound of rain echoed from beyond the bedroom window. Rhett blinked blearily, brow furrowing as he rolled onto his other side. It was rare for him not to sleep through the night. He closed his eyes and tried to sink back into sleep, feeling vaguely like he’d been having a good dream, but despite the softness of his bed and the drift of his eyelids, something kept him from doing so.

Jessie slept soundly on. Rhett listened for the sounds of his children, maybe getting out of bed to go to the bathroom (Shepherd especially had done this frequently as a toddler), but the house was still and silent. With a sigh, Rhett gave up. He sat up in bed, rubbing a hand over his face, and crossed the room to the window, careful not to wake his wife. If it was raining enough, he’d close the window to stop water from leaking in, although it rarely rained hard enough in L.A. for that to be an issue. Nothing like the thunderstorms back home in North Carolina, with huge, rolling black clouds, the air so thick with humidity that just breathing felt difficult. After he’d gotten used to them – and he remembered five-year-old Link’s amusement at Rhett’s reaction to seeing hail for the first time, his relish in knowing something Rhett did not – he’d found them exhilarating. Here, in sunny California, there was no such thing as bad weather.

The master bedroom was at the back of the house, and the window looked out over a small park between their street and the one behind it. Rhett looked blankly out of the window, unsure what he looking _for._ The orange lamplight from the park behind his house shone brightly through the trees in their backyard. The trees had grown tall in the years since he and his family had moved in. They’d have to be pruned soon if he wanted to keep them to a decent size. Was there a right time to prune trees? Back home as a kid, his father had had some men come in every couple of years and lop off a few limbs, but he couldn’t remember what season. Rhett made a mental note to research it in the morning. Link would roll his eyes, but if it meant saving money on landscaping down the road he’d be all over it. The man fought with his family to keep the thermostat at sixty-eight; he’d appreciate another way to save a few bucks, however superfluous those few bucks might be.

Sighing, Rhett turned away from the window with vague thoughts of getting back into bed, but found himself turning back not a moment later, staring out into the night. Slowly, the foggy, sleepy confusion was lifting from his eyes and brain. Underneath his heavy limbs and midnight lethargy was an unfamiliar anxiety, nameless and unsettling. Rhett’s eyes narrowed as he focused more clearly on the sight before him. The night was clear, stars dotting the sky here and there. There were no clouds. He could hear the rain noise better now, and it wasn’t the pitter-patter of drops he expected – it was more of a crackle, snapping and hissing it ways rain didn’t. And the light, the light from the streetlamp, it was too much, too bright, too orange, its radius too large.

With a bolt of realization, Rhett understood. There was no rain and there was no streetlamp – _there was a fire._

Immediately Rhett’s heartbeat skyrocketed and icy adrenaline flooded through him. Palms sweating, he moved quickly across the room and down the stairs, hurrying through the kitchen and opening the sliding back door that lead to the deck. He stepped outside in only his boxers, heart pounding, and jogged across his backyard to the gate. Unlocking it with trembling fingers, he stepped into the park and stared at the sight before him.

A house on the other side of the park – not thirty yards from where he stood – was consumed with flames. The entire rear end of the house was spouting fire, flames leaping from the windows on both floors. The crackling was louder now, much louder, the fire almost a roar as it devoured the house. It was the biggest fire Rhett had ever seen, out-of-control and terrifying, like a forest fire but worse, somehow, seeming almost transgressive in the suburban neighbourhood. He had taken one step back toward his house for his phone to call 911 when an alarm began to sound. There was shouting in the street and, distantly, the piercing siren of a fire truck.

Rhett’s instincts were rearing suddenly and violently; he wanted to run back inside his house for his sons and put them in the car and drive them far, far away from this danger, wanted to hold them in his arms and _see_ that they were safe and uninjured. Rhett put one hand over his heart as if that could slow its rapid beat as he stared at the tall, raging flames. Before he realized what he was doing, Rhett had moved back to his home and was in the kitchen reaching for the cordless landline Jessie insisted they keep. His thumbs punched in the sequence of numbers without conscious thought.

It rang seven times before there was an answer. ‘’Lo?’

Link’s raspy, sleep-thick voice was immediately grounding. Rhett’s heart still raced, but rational thought began to reassert itself. He poked his head outside and, hearing that the alarm had stopped, stepped back out onto the deck, not wanting to wake his family if the fire hadn’t done so. ‘Link, hey.’

‘Rhett?’ Link mumbled, sounding like he was still half asleep.

‘Yeah, it’s me.’ Rhett watched the flames lick higher. ‘Sorry to wake you.’

‘What’s wrong?’ Link asked, more clearly now and audibly worried. ‘S’ Rhett,’ he said quietly, probably to Christy. ‘Hang on,’ he whispered to Rhett, and Rhett waited out the creaks and groans of Link climbing out of bed and downstairs. ‘Okay, sorry – are you okay?’

‘I’m fine.’ Rhett took another deep breath, feeling his heart slow slightly. ‘There’s a fire across from my house though. A big one.’

‘ _What?_ ’

‘Yeah, the house just across the park,’ Rhett continued, gesturing at it as though Link could see him. ‘Their whole back deck and rear of the house is just burning down.’

‘Far from your place?’

‘Far enough,’ Rhett replied, judging it unlikely that the fire would spontaneously shoot across the park and set his house aflame. ‘Pretty freaky though.’

‘Dang, man.’ Link was quiet for a moment. ‘You know what caused it?’

Link was probably mentally going through everything in his house right now that could conceivably cause a fire, maybe even checking the stove or the grill to make sure they were off. ‘Dunno,’ Rhett replied with a shrug. ‘I think they smoke, though.’

‘Be careful out there,’ Link said, as if he knew already that Rhett would be outside watching the fire and not inside, where it was safe.

The fire trucks had arrived at that moment, their sirens silent and lights flashing as men and women in heavy protective gear spilled out. They ran around the back of the house, some carrying what looked axes, others with a long, heavy hose. Rhett took another deep breath.

‘You good?’ Link asked.

‘I’m good,’ Rhett said, wiping his sweaty hands on his boxers. ‘This is crazy. There are firefighters here now. You ever wanted to be a firefighter when you were a kid?’

‘No,’ said Link, the _duh_ implied. Rhett smiled into his beard, switching his phone to his left hand and back again. ‘You nuts? I wanted to be a weatherman.’

‘I know.’ Rhett grinned, feeling calmer now. His hands were no longer sweating as profusely or shaking, and although his heartbeat still felt too fast, it had slowed considerably. Just the familiar sound of Link’s breathing on the other end of the line made him feel more in control. ‘These guys are good, though. They’ve already got the water goin’.’

Link’s relief was obvious. ‘That was quick. There’s a fire station not far from here, ain’t there?’

‘Yeah, just down the hill,’ Rhett agreed. ‘They got here pretty fast, too.’ He paused, watching the powerful jet of water arching toward the house and hearing the hiss of extinguished flames. ‘I looked at a fire hydrant system one time,’ he remarked, remembering. ‘Back when we were engineers.’

‘Hope they don’t fail that often,’ Link joked, almost making it a question. 

‘Nah, man, they’re foolproof,’ Rhett said, waving a hand. ‘Just a valve. They pressurize the water in the fire truck anyway.’

‘Course they do,’ mumbled Link, probably more in response to Rhett’s knowledge than the fact itself.

‘Wouldn’t mind driving one of those babies, though.’ Rhett eyed the long red vehicles. They had to be at least thirty feet long, if not more. He vaguely recalled an Ear Biscuit with – was it Freddie Wong? – involving a story about a stunt driving theory and a good-natured firefighter.

‘Too bad we’re not doing Back-Up Plan anymore.’ Link yawned over the phone. ‘Geico would’ve been all over that.’

‘Yeah.’ Rhett hummed, already thinking about ways they could wrangle an episode around a fire station. Who would sponsor them to drive a fire truck? The insurance company would probably have conniptions, but the _views_ they would get – maybe _Two Regular Guys Try Firefighting_  or _Fire Truck Stunt Driving._

Or, more likely, _Link Almost Kills Someone with a Fire Truck_. (There was probably a law in place for that, come to think of it.) Link was a good driver most of the time; he just seemed to have blind spots for pedestrians that ensured that Rhett was a very aware passenger during their morning carpools. Link also tended to speed. Maybe Rhett could be the one to drive the fire truck, and Link could put on the gear and slide down the pole.

‘Stop,’ Link murmured blearily, reading volumes in Rhett’s silence. ‘Too early for work.’

Grinning, both at himself and at Link, Rhett shook his head. ‘Just thinkin’, brother.’

The fire fighters were quick to get the fire under control. Rhett watched, chatting intermittently with Link and relaying what he saw, as the flames shrank steadily in size and number. Through the increasing darkness Rhett could see what remained of the back half of the house: just the original framing, so that it looked like some kind of black-boned skeleton.

He fell quiet for a few moments, watching the coiling of the hose and the collection of tools piled on the lawn, ready for use. On the other end of the line, Link’s breathing matched his, their inhales and exhales synchronizing like two kids on the swings, or two perfectly-timed cannonballs into Cape Fear River.

* * *

‘C’mon, bo!’ Link shouted, his narrow chest bare, the rolling waves of Cape Fear River at his feet.

The first swim of the year was more than a habit – it was a ritual. Usually in March, sometimes early April if the winter had been cold enough, he and Link would go down for the first swim of the summer. No shoes, no shirts, no limitations – just him and Link and the dark, icy water.

Rhett had never told anybody, but he thought that first swim felt like a baptism. A real one, a powerful one – the cold water closing over their heads as they plunged in, their sins washed away right there at the muddy bottom of the riverbank, leaving them new and whole and pure. And when Rhett’s head broke the surface of the water and he looked around and saw Link, and Link looked back at him with sparkling eyes and a fierce grin, it felt like he was being reborn. Like they both were.

He’d never told anybody, but he thought maybe Link understood.

‘Hurry up, man!’ Link’s voice broke through Rhett’s reverie, and he hurried to remove his shirt and socks. Paradoxically, if this was a baptism, then it was a baptism by fire. It was impossible to tell how cold the water would be without testing it, but that would violate one of the unspoken codes of the ritual – no testing, no caution. Just jump.

And Link – anxious, impulsive Link – would dive in without a second thought unless Rhett told him there was something to worry about. Then – well, then Link would worry and agonize and the ritual would be broken.

‘Hang on, brother,’ Rhett said, yanking off his shirt and tossing it aside. And then, without giving himself time to think, he took two enormous steps and leapt into the river, Link’s indignant shout behind him.

The water closed over him and it was cold, gosh was it cold, but that was the point and it was _good_. As Rhett sank he could feel the current moving over him, washing him, and when he pulled his way to the top he left a part of himself, something heavy and slow, on the bottom.

He broke the surface with a gasp, droplets flying as he inhaled deeply. He looked around and yes, there was Link treading water next to him, grinning and laughing and shivering as he splashed once at Rhett. ‘Why you gotta be so competitive?’ he complained, but Rhett knew he didn’t really care.

‘Wanna swim out to the rocks?’ he asked instead. Link nodded, and they struck out downriver, sometimes racing, sometimes just floating. The river carried them on their backs, away from home but toward each other. By the time they reached their special place, Rhett felt calm inside in a way he’d been missing. The ritual of the first swim, and everything it entailed. Link swimming at his side, smiling, trusting, carefree in this moment. Rhett felt something familiar settle in his stomach, something steady and warm and  _right._

‘I want the big rock first,’ Link said, so Rhett nodded and waited while Link climbed, assuming his place on the small rock. He looked back over his shoulder at the river. Cape Fear had not turned on them today. Rhett whispered a prayer of thanks, the quick words falling fervently from his lips, before he turned to listen to whatever Link had to say.

* * *

Eventually, all but one fire truck had packed up and driven away. Rhett could hear neighbours saying goodnight and returning to their homes, danger past. Silence fell, and in the absence of activity and noise and adrenaline he suddenly realized how tired he was. He sagged against the railing of the deck before pushing himself back up, shaking his head as if to clear it. 

‘Going back to bed,’ he muttered to Link, fighting to keep his open as he went inside and began climbing the stairs. 

Link sounded similarly exhausted. ‘Kay,’ he murmured. ‘Fire’s out?’ 

‘Yeah.’ 

‘I’m comin’ for you extra early in the morning,’ Link grumbled, but there was no real displeasure in his voice. 

‘Sure, buddy.’ Rhett huffed a laugh even as the line went dead. He entered his bedroom quietly and set the phone down on his nightstand, stumbling a bit in the dark. He climbed back into bed, glancing once at the clock. It was just past three-thirty. He was going to be real tired tomorrow.

Jessie murmured indecipherably as Rhett adjusted the blankets. ‘I’ll tell you in the morning,’ he whispered softly, kissing her shoulder clumsily, smiling faintly as she mumbled and turned over, seeking his warmth. He was so tired he probably wouldn’t notice her cuddling for the rest of the night.

As Rhett closed his eyes, he remembered again about pruning the trees. He had to remember to tell Link about his idea in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm emerging from the woodwork to try my hand at Rhett & Link gen. I've lurked in this fandom for too long, so - hi, friends! Hope you enjoyed my foray into whatever this is. Inspired by real events.


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